


One Flower to Another

by raritysdiamonds



Category: Cuphead (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Flowey Is A Dick, Gen, asshole flowers club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raritysdiamonds/pseuds/raritysdiamonds
Summary: Flowey’s latest reset goes a little awry, and the surface isn’t exactly how he remembers it. But after meeting a couple of new pals, he might just be onto a real game-changer.





	One Flower to Another

**Author's Note:**

> so, um, I guess I accidentally a crossover!! I’m not really sure what this is or why I wrote it – I mean, am I ever? lol – but Cuphead has recently consumed my life and I had a need for some Asshole Flowers(™) hanging out so here we go~ it was fun to kinda dip my toes into a new fandom, and hopefully I did okay with...well, everyone here! As always I would love to hear you guys’ thoughts, thanks for reading and have a heckin gosh darn swell day!! ...or something.

The moment Flowey opened his petals, he knew that reset had gone wrong.

He was back to his regular form, drained from the incomparable rush of power the six souls had sent surging through him just seconds ago. But he could feel a different kind of energy, from somewhere high above; something bright and strong and unfamiliar, yet pleasant, warming him to his empty core. 

Instinctively, Flowey felt himself leaning into it, stretching up on his stem and tilting his face up into the soothing sensation. It felt so good for a moment his eyes fluttered closed again with contentment, just basking in the warm rays of the...

The  _ sun _ .

The realisation tore his eyes wide open, and he jerked back so fast he almost yanked himself right out of the ground. No, no  _ way _ , he couldn’t be – had he somehow jumped this far back in time, or even  _ forwards _ ? He’d never done that before – or was it the kid? But they were nowhere to be seen, as he twisted around wildly, scanning the area: it was just Flowey, rooted in the middle of a wide, open, grassy field, the gentle breeze on his petals and sweet birdsong floating through the air.

It was almost disgustingly picturesque, like something out of a storybook – _this_ sure wasn’t how he remembered his briefest of times on the surface. There were no screams ringing in his ears, no twisted, malicious words and weapons and magic assaulting him from all sides as he struggled to defend himself, clinging desperately to the last remains of his best –

“ _Whoa_ there –“ Flowey’s existential crisis – well, if he’d been capable of having one – was rudely interrupted as something sharp bumped against his stem. “Watch where you’re going, squirt!”

“ _You_ watch it,” Flowey snapped back automatically, as he twisted his stem around to get a look at the clumsy idiot who’d almost trod on him – only to freeze when he found himself staring right into the unimpressed scowl of another flower. A _much bigger_ flower; he towered above Flowey on a thick, thorny stem, leafy arms folded and head cocked as he regarded him with irritation and a sprinkle of intrigue written across his golden orange-framed face. He was what Asgore probably once would’ve called “a most impressive specimen”, and Flowey had never seen anything like him – monster, flower or human.

“I mean – hey there, buddy!” he quickly amended, flashing his friendliest smile as curiosity stirred somewhere deep in his roots, and it wasn’t just the nutrient-rich soil he’d been deprived of in the Underground. “Just a friendly reminder, one flower to another – maybe keep an eye out for the little guy in future! We’d look like a real pair of prize fools if you ended up squishing me into a petal pancake, huh?”

“That so?” The flower had a low, scratchy voice and sharp eyes that seemed to assess and dismiss Flowey in a glance, with just the slightest glint of suspicion. “Funny, ‘cause I know just about every flower round these parts, and I ain’t ever seen the likes of you before.”

“Boy, that is funny! Then I guess you don’t know _every_ flower after all,” Flowey couldn’t resist pointing out with a high-pitched, slightly squeaky giggle – he wasn’t intimidated, of course, it took a lot more than some overgrown doppelgänger to spook him, but he _was_ starting to wonder whether the doctor might have paid another visit to Asgore’s garden while he’d been gone. 

He knew it was idiotic, but the thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one – the last one, the special one – felt...strange. He tore his eyes from the other flower’s piercing gaze to look around the meadow – there were more flowers peeking out from the grass, but none of them seemed to be sentient. Keeping his tone casual, he continued: “And these parts, um...that’d be…?”

The flower snorted, resting one hand on his stem to make a grand, sweeping gesture with the other. “Inkwell Meadow, boy. Where’s it look like?”

“So this _is_ the surface.” The name didn’t mean anything to Flowey, but it was confirmation enough to begin the infinite questions blooming in his mind. What timeline was this? How did he get here? Could he go back? And just where _was_ everyone – he’d watched the entire Underground burning in despair plenty of times before, but this ending...This was _new_.

It got a chuckle out of his new pal, though, his hard-faced, long-nosed demeanour relaxing a little, as though he’d decided Flowey wasn’t a threat ( _ha_ – that suited him just fine for now).

“ Well,  _ yeah _ . Hate to break it to ya, kid, but you’re not gonna grow up big and strong by hidin’ your face away in the  _ ground  _ now, are you?” Smirking, he held out a long, leafy hand before Flowey could respond. “But where’re my manners? Name’s Cagney. Cagney Carnation.”

“Howdy!” Flowey beamed back – something was telling him he wanted this guy as an ally rather than an enemy for now – as he looped a vine around the offered hand, and they shook. Despite his delicate leaves, Cagney Carnation had a strong grip; if he _was_ the doctor’s doing, he thought idly, maybe she’d finally perfected the recipe. Although again, it wasn't like he was _jealous_ of the bigger flower like some wimpy loser. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the...flower.”

Cagney nodded, releasing the vine to pluck at his top petals as though tipping a hat. “Well, now, Flowey the flower – since you’re obviously not from around here, what brings you to my patch? Sprung up for pollination’ season?”

“Uh...huh! You betcha!” Occasionally snooping through Asgore’s gardening books hadn’t helped him figure out _every_ part of the whole flower deal, but it was his best shot at holding the other flower’s attention long enough for a conversation he hadn’t had fifty times already, and Cagney grinned wickedly, revealing sharp, pointed fangs. 

“Might be tough out there for a little weed like you, but here’s a tip. You wanna get yourself a spot right over by the –"

“ _ Cagney! _ ” 

They both jumped as a new, higher-pitched voice pierced the air, and Cagney’s smile disintegrated in an instant.

“Raspberries,” he muttered.

“We know you’re around here somewhere!” came another, almost identical but distinct voice. 

“You can’t hide forever! C’mon and fight us like a man!”

“Well, you probably could, but um...don’t, please?”

The sly smile respawned just as quickly on Flowey’s own face, as he cocked his head in curiosity at this interesting development. 

“Golly, am I interrupting something? Someone on your trail, Cagney the Carnation?”

Cagney huffed a irritated sigh, flapping a hand at him in a _shoo_ gesture but otherwise preoccupied with looking for something in the distance, his eyes darting from side to side. “Those two mugs have been on me all day. And believe me, I’m not the type of guy who _enjoys_ knockin’ a couple kids for six – I’d be down at the old clip joint if I was – but…” He paused as something like regret flickered over his features, and for a moment seemed to soften his whole face into a totally different one – sweeter, sadder. Then he shook his petals and it hardened again. “Guess they’ll just have to learn the hard way when not to go pokin’ your beak into other folks’ business. Anyway.” With that, Cagney uprooted himself, stepping out of the ground and onto two long, skinny but sturdy-looking leg-leaves. “I’m gonna make tracks, and _you’re_ not gonna tell anyone you saw me.”

“What, leaving already?” Flowey frowned – but he’d barely even _started_ getting the dirt out of the other flower, and there was clearly more to dig for. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re _scared_ of some…”

Cagney wasn’t even listening to him – wow, _rude_ – as he strode past Flowey in a flash, heading in the direction of a nearby forest. “I’ll put in a good word with Rumor for ya!” he called back over his shoulder, before disappearing somewhere into the thick mass of trees.

Flowey sighed, drooping a little – just a bit longer, and he was sure Cagney had been starting to warm up to him – but he didn’t have long to ponder before his petals perked up again at the sound of fast approaching footsteps through the grass.

He squinted as presumably the two mugs in question stumbled into his eyeline; these were a lot smaller than Cagney, and more human-shaped – except for their ridiculously big heads, which he realised as they drew closer were actual teacups, complete with a handle and matching brightly coloured stripy straws. Seriously – were they giving out double shots of DT to _any_ old object now?

Whatever they were, they were in an awful hurry, faces flushed and panting a little as after searching all over the area, they made a beeline for Flowey. He plastered on his most innocent smile, tilted his head questioningly and waited.

“Hey, mister!” The cup with the red-striped straw waved at him, stepping forward with a purposeful, almost challenging glint in his cartoonishly huge eyes. “Have you seen Cagney anywhere? Cagney Carnation? Tall, orange, kinda cranky when he hasn’t had his nap…”

“Looks a little like you, actually?” the other one joined in; slightly softer spoken, he had a big blue nose to match his shorts and straw. Flowey had an urge to squeeze it to see if he squeaked – maybe later. “Except, well, bigger…”

“Tougher.” Red nodded.

“ And  _ meaner _ .”

Oh, they had _no_ idea. A long-forgotten spark of excitement tingled from Flowey’s petals to his roots, and he had to restrain himself from dancing with glee at the realisation of what he’d just been handed: two _brand new toys_ , wide-eyed and naive and irresistibly breakable. They might not literally be on a plate just yet, but they sure looked like they should be.

“Carnation, you say? Hmm…” He scrunched up his face as though deep in thought, glancing from side to side before wriggling his stem in an approximation of a shrug. “Nope, sorry, can’t say I’ve seen him. It’s just me here, Flowey! Flowey the flower!” He winked and waved a leaf. “And now you two. Who’d be…?”

“Well, _I’m_ Cuphead,” Red beamed as he slung an arm around his pal’s shoulders, chest puffed up all proud like a prize fighter, “and this here’s my brother, Mugman!” 

“Hiya!” Blue smiled shyly and waved, while Flowey just about suppressed a snort – brothers, of course. This was _too_ rich.

“Those are some swell names! Heh, I’d have sworn my d – I mean, the king christened you guys himself.”

The cups exchanged a puzzled look, painted-on smiles fading first into confusion and then suspicion. “So,” Cuphead said, arm falling from around his brother to fold defensively over his chest, “King Dice sent you, huh?”

Interesting – whoever that was, it sounded like the big guy hadn’t made it in whatever screwy timeline _this_ was, either. The thought, as expected, didn’t stir any emotion in him, except mild satisfaction that at least he’d made _something_ stick. Flowey stuck out his tongue playfully in response. “Who, me? Nobody _sent_ me, silly! I’m a free flower, just here for whoever needs me. And ‘scuse me if I’m wrong, but you guys sure look like you could stand to see a friendly face.”

Neither looked totally convinced, but Mugman offered him a tentative smile. “I guess you are about the friendliest flower we’ve seen all day,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his handle. “Or at least...the first that hasn’t started shootin’ at us yet.”

“Gosh, I find _that_ hard to believe! You two cute little crockeries?” Flowey widened his eyes, the picture of tender concern to mask his glee. There had to be a story here, and boy was he going to enjoy getting them to spill one way or the other. “What sort of pickle could you have possibly gotten yourselves into? Hey, you never know, I may even be able to help!”

Mugman’s face brightened. “Gee, you really think you could –“

“We don’t have time for that,” Cuphead interrupted, simultaneously cutting off the hopeful note in his brother’s voice and very close to the end of Flowey’s patience. “We just gotta find Cagney before…”

“Before _what_?” Flowey blinked, keeping up the innocent facade, but he could feel the tension building, magic itching under his petals to summon some friendliness pellets in case they decided to make a break for it. But for now he had something better at his disposal: Toriel’s most damning ‘not mad, just _disappointed’_ face. “Oh, no…I sure hope you wouldn’t be thinking of starting any _trouble_ with old Cagney?”

_ Bingo _ : Mugman bit his lip, wringing his straw in his hands as he cast an anxious glance at his brother, while Cuphead’s frown deepened and he took another step closer 

“What’s it to ya?” he retorted, bending down to get right in Flowey’s face – all the better to see the (pretty pathetic to start with) tough-guy act crack almost instantly as he straightened up, shifting from one foot to the other. “Listen, we...Cagney knows what we need, alright? It’s nothing personal. Just...business.”

“Uh- _huh_.” Flowey raised an eyebrow – the cracks were showing, all he needed to do was poke them a little. “You could say it’s none of _my_ business, but...sounds like you might be in some bad business, boys.”

“We – we don’t _wanna_ fight him!” Mugman blurted out, tugging at his straw so hard a few drops of mysterious white liquid spilled free. “I never wanted to fight _any_ of ‘em! I said, didn’t I, Cups – maybe we could just _talk_ about it, convince them to give us the con–“

“ Mug,” Cuphead placed a hand on his shoulder, quiet but firm as the unmistakable shadow of guilt fell across his face. “don’t – it’s okay.” He turned to fix Flowey with a defiant, protective glare “We don’t gotta tell this weed  _ anything _ . C’mon, let’s just go – we’ll get Cagney later.”

Honestly, if he’d been capable of it, Flowey almost felt sorry for them. They probably thought they’d be stronger together, when all they were really doing was laying bare their biggest, most glaring weakness for anyone to snatch and twist and break right before their little pie-slice eyes. That was where _family_ got you – and wasn’t Flowey lucky that he hadn’t been troubled by such idiotic sentiment in too many timelines to count? Now he was having _way_ more fun.

“Well, _that_ wasn’t very nice,” he pouted in mock hurt. “And here’s me trying to lend a helping leaf! How’s about you shut your sweet little cuphole, _buddy_ …” Flowey’s grin grew more menacing as his bullets finally rose from the ground to surround them in a neat circle, blocking all paths of escape, “before I break it off for you.”

Cuphead scoffed as he nodded at Mugman, and Flowey spotted some kind of magic glowing in their clenched fists as the pair stood their ground. “Think we’re scared of  _ you _ ? We’ve been knocking out way bigger and tougher flowers all day.”

At that, Flowey started to giggle, and he couldn’t stop, and he didn’t want to stop, hysterical whoops ringing through the trees, wracking his stem, pulling at his face until he felt it melting into his favourite horrific visage, and he savoured every second. 

“Oh, my _friends_ ,” he sing-songed, voice loud and distorted, crackling with static, “you’ll _never_ meet another flower like –“

The first shot cut him off as it just grazed the side of his petals – bright, hot, concentrated magic, but it felt different to any he’d taken in the Underground, and the zing of something genuinely new and exciting only made Flowey laugh harder, but not too hard to weave in between the several that followed it in rapid succession. 

Clearly it wasn’t these kids’ first time at the rodeo, either: they were fast and nimble on their comically oversized boots, jumping and dodging Flowey’s first few waves of bullets while firing straight back from their fingers. It stung when they bounced off his petals or stem before he could dodge, but not enough to put a real dent in his HP. He toyed with them a while, keeping his attack patterns simple, teasing them with the slim possibility of escape while he waited for the perfect opportunity to snatch it away. 

“Whoopsie!” he giggled, lashing out with a strategically sprouted vine just as Mugman landed; it curled around a skinny porcelain ankle and tugged, bringing him crashing to the ground with a startled cry. “Careful there – wouldn’t it be such a shame, to see a perfectly good teacup shatter to pieces?”

“Get _off_ of him!” To Flowey’s increasing amusement, Cuphead fell for the ruse hook, line and sinker, his fire slowing and aim growing sloppy as he made a grab for his brother’s flailing hand while Flowey dragged him aimlessly along the grass like a rag doll.

“Aw, Red, feeling left out? Don’t worry…” Flowey let the vine uncoil from around Mugman and he clasped Cuphead’s hand, struggling back onto his feet – just before either had time to dodge the much thicker, stronger vine emerging behind them. Flowey gave Cuphead a generous smack and he tumbled spectacularly right back into his brother, their heads colliding with a pleasing _crack_ , “there’s _plenty_ of LOVE to go around for everyone! _This_ is getting kinda annoying, though…” Pulling them apart, he went for their shooting hands, more vines snaking around their arms as he wrenched them behind their backs, earning satisfying squeals of pain. “Did no one ever teach you boys…” He yanked roughly on their arms to get the point across; up, down, side to side, like a pair of pitiful dancing puppets, “that it’s _rude..._ ” Magic bullets fired haphazardly into the air, landing on the ground, past the trees – everywhere except Flowey, until he whirled them around so that their arms were trapped at a painful angle, aimed squarely at each other so neither could shoot without hitting the other right in the mug, “to _point_?”

Dangling the cups off the ground, Flowey amused himself watching them struggle against his vines, smirking at the way their faces contorted with pain as they thrashed and kicked and yelled unconvincing threats that he’d better let them go  _ right now _ , or else…

“Or _else_? Gosh, I’m just itching to see how you guys plan on getting out of this bind,” Flowey taunted. “Go ahead, call for help – but wait, isn’t just about the whole forest out for your heads? Just imagine what’ll happen if one of those _bigger, tougher, meaner_ flowers comes along…”

“Well, well, well, fellas.” A familiar drawl interrupted his monologue as a long shadow fell over them. “None of you ever heard the saying ‘pick on someone several times your own size’?”

Flowey swiveled around to see Cagney observing the scene with a crooked half-smile, his eyes flicking from Flowey to Cuphead to Mugman with a somehow simultaneously amused and displeased gleam; one that gave him the impression that Cagney Carnation wasn’t particularly fond of sharing _his_ toys.

Before any of them could speak, he breezed past Flowey, hooked a leafy finger around both cups’ handles and lifted them clean off their bodies with a soft _pop_. Damn, the fun they could have had if he’d realised _that_ was an option; he didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed when they remained both alive and visibly relieved at finding themselves out of the fire and into the frying pan.

“Knew you’d come crawlin’ back,” Cuphead grinned, _way_ smugger than a disembodied drinking vessel who’d been seconds away from having his porcelain butt handed to him had any right to be.

“Boy, Cagney, I never thought I’d be so happy to see ya!” Mugman beamed up at him, cheeks colouring a little as he let out an awkward giggle. “Not – not that I wasn’t always happy to see you, I mean, before all –“

Cagney clinked their heads together, shaking his head in exasperation and what looked suspiciously like a glimmer of fondness as they yelped. “Couldn’t leave you running around tearin’ up my patch, boys.” His gaze drifted over to Flowey, left clutching their squirming, headless bodies; it might have been a tad unsettling, if you were the type of crybaby to get spooked by that sort of thing. Reluctantly, he let them wriggle free as Cagney set their mugs back on their shoulders, not even bothering to stick them on the wrong bodies, which would obviously have been way more fun. Meaner, Flowey’s nonexistent butt. “I see you’ve already made a new friend here.”

Flowey smiled sunnily as the cups rubbed their newly reattached heads, shooting him glares (Cuphead) and almost hilariously hurt puppy-dog eyes (Mugman).  “Kept ‘em nice and distracted, just like you asked, pal.

“And then some.” Cagney stroked his lower petals thoughtfully, until Flowey swore he saw literal lightbulbs flash in his eyes. “Y’know what, if you guys like the taste of defeat that much, fine, let’s go again. _But_ –  let’s get one thing clear...” He held up a finger, stern gaze sweeping over all three of them. “I don’t wanna see anyone fighting _dirty_ on my turf. Got it?”

Cuphead and Mugman nodded eagerly, and Flowey felt a slight shiver run down his stem as Cagney’s eyes lingered on him – just the cold, obviously, with his big old lion-head of petals shielding him from the sun. 

“Yessir, Mister Carnation!”

“Fair and square!”

Flowey was just about ready to retire for the day, sneak off to the sidelines to watch this scene play out, but right as he was about to retreat back into the soil two slender, deceptively strong leafy fingers curled around him instead. 

“Where’d you think _you’re_ going, buddy? Nothin’ fairer than two on two.” A tiny squeak he hoped the other two hadn’t heard might have slipped out as Cagney caught him by surprise as well as by the stem, his grin sharper and more predatory than ever as he winked at Flowey. “Help me out, sprout – one flower to another.”

“ Well, if you  _ insist _ …”  It didn’t sound like a request, but Flowey supposed there were worse binds to be in. “If a tough guy like you can’t handle a couple of mugs on your own, guess it’s down to little ol’ me to finish the job.”

He smirked back at the cups as they glanced from Cagney to Flowey and back again; Cuphead yanked up his shorts, Mugman took a gulp of whatever was in his head, and both had something blazing in their eyes Flowey recognised. It was the look of someone who’d struggled, maybe even died a good few times, but had too much to lose, was too brave or stupid or determined or all three, to consider giving up. Well, if that was how they wanted it, who was he to deny them another delicious defeat?

His plan might have glitched up a little this time, but, Flowey thought right before the bullets started flying from both sides: the game might just have started to get interesting again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading, feedback is always appreciated! <3


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